A Man to Trust (2 page)

Adrie stared at her grandma. Was she serious? Why would she even consider hiring someone who obviously wasn’t right for the job?

Nana’s steady gaze rested on Adrie, her intention clear.

Her grandmother owned the store and would make the final decision. But why would she promise to pray about it? Hiring Ross Peterson would obviously be a mistake.

Ross climbed into the passenger seat of Cam’s forest-green SUV and pulled the door closed with more force than needed. But it didn’t relieve his frustration. He grabbed his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and slid them into place while his stomach churned.

“So, how did it go?” Cam started the engine, checked over his shoulder and pulled into the street.

“Not too well.” Ross clamped his jaw and looked out the side window.

“How come? I thought you’d be perfect for the job.”

“I am, but that doesn’t seem to matter.” He shook his head. What was he going to do now? Since he’d closed his studio, his photography business had dwindled, and he’d had to dip into his savings. Rent on his apartment was due in two weeks along with his car insurance and a few other bills. That would wipe out his reserves.

“That had to be the toughest interview I’ve ever had.”

“I’m surprised. Marian Chandler is one of the sweetest ladies in town.”

“She might be, but that granddaughter of hers is another story.” Acid burned his throat as he thought of how Adrie had studied him throughout the interview. Each time he answered a question, he could see the doubt in her expression.

Cam grinned. “I thought she seemed a little cool toward you.”

“Cool? It was more like freezing.”

Cam’s grin faded. “I wonder what’s up with that.”

“I have no idea. She seemed to have her mind set against me before the interview even started.” He rubbed his chin, trying to figure out what he’d done to invoke such animosity in her. “What do you know about her?”

“Only what Rachel has told me. Her parents are missionaries in Africa. She was raised there, then she came back to Fairhaven to live with her grandparents and attend college.”

“Wow, Africa. That’s different.”

“Yeah. I think it was Kenya. She must have some great stories, but she never says much about it. The few times we’ve talked, it’s always been about church, work or friends.” He tapped his finger on the steering wheel. “She plays the flute with the worship team. Have you seen her at church?”

Ross shook his head. He had only started attending Grace Chapel the last couple of months, after the bottom fell out of his business and Cam had talked to him about the importance of trusting God with his life and future.

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Adrie there. He would’ve remembered her. As a photographer, he always noticed people with unique features and hair color, and Adrie had both. Her dark auburn hair had golden highlights. It curled around her face, then flowed down over her shoulders in soft waves. A fringe of dark lashes framed her large, lavender-blue eyes. Her skin was light and almost translucent like a piece of fine china. Her lips…

He stopped there. What was the point? Beautiful or not, she acted as cold as a glacier toward him. And she seemed intent on convincing her grandmother not to hire him.

“Hey, Ross. Are you off in dreamland?”

He glanced at Cam. “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you think there’s a chance you’ll get the job.”

He grimaced and shook his head. “No way, not in a million years.”

Adrie took another sip of hot orange spice tea, hoping the warmth would soothe the uneasy feelings swirling through her. These Sunday morning breakfasts with her grandma were usually one of her favorite times of the week, but today’s conversation was twisting her stomach into a nervous knot.

“I’m sorry, Adrie. I know you’re not in favor of hiring Ross, but you haven’t given me one solid reason not to.”

Adrie set her teacup back on the table. “I know he seems to have good qualifications, but there’s something about him that makes me uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Nana, but I don’t think we should trust him.”

“Those are just feelings, dear, not facts.”

“But doesn’t God work through our feelings? Aren’t we supposed to have peace about our decisions?”

Marian released a soft sigh. “I believe God gives us discernment and wisdom to make decisions when we ask Him for His help. Our feelings play a part in that, but we also need to look at the facts. In this case, Ross has the experience needed, and he has a young, growing faith. Cam seems to know him quite well, and that gives him a solid character reference.”

Adrie took another bite of Nana’s chocolate-chip coffee cake, giving her time to think before she answered. “But we need a manager who’s caring, someone who’ll give our customers solid advice. I don’t think he has the knowledge or spiritual maturity to do that.”

“But he’s eager to learn. I could see that in his eyes.”

Adrie clicked her tongue. “Please don’t get taken in by those delicious dark eyes of his.”

Nana’s hand stilled as she reached for her coffee cup. A slow smile spread across her lips. “Did you say his eyes were delicious?”

Adrie’s cheeks flamed. “What I meant was, good looks have nothing to do with character. Men who are good- looking tend to know it and use it to their advantage.”

Sadness softened Nana’s expression. “Oh, honey, not every man you meet is going to treat you like that dreadful Adam Sheffield.”

Adrie’s heart twisted. “I know. I’m not saying he would.”

Painful memories swirled through her mind, taunting her. She would be leaving for her honeymoon today if Adam hadn’t walked away and broken every promise he had ever made. She forced those painful thoughts back into the secret corner of her heart and locked them away.

They had nothing to do with Ross Peterson. But was she letting his resemblance to Adam color her judgment? She
had
mistaken him for Adam at first glance.

No. That wasn’t it. She was just being cautious, looking out for her grandmother and considering what was best for the business.

Adrie looked across the table at her grandmother. “Promise me you’ll think about this a little longer before you make a decision.”

Nana patted her hand, her gaze tender. “All right, dear. I’ll pray about it some more. But Ross deserves an answer as soon as I can give it.”

Looking into her grandma’s eyes, she had a dreadful feeling the decision was already made.

Chapter Two

S
unlight sparkled across the rippling surface of Bellingham Bay, blinking back at Ross as he jogged along the South Bay Trail. Snow-white seagulls with gray wingtips and tails swooped overhead, riding the salty breeze. A bird’s cry cut through the morning stillness, along with the rhythmic thump of his running shoes hitting the wooden boardwalk. If he could just keep running, maybe he could escape all the discouraging thoughts that weighed him down.

Time to get a grip and think about something positive. He might not have his photography studio anymore, but he still had a few jobs lined up, including Cam and Rachel’s wedding next month. If that went well, he might get some referrals for other events. Over time, he could rebuild his business.

Reality rushed back, taking his spirits for a nosedive. Shooting one wedding was not going to turn everything around. He needed a full-time job soon, or his bank account was going to bottom out.

His cell phone buzzed, and he lifted it from his pocket. His father’s name and Tacoma number lit up the screen. He shot off a quick prayer for help. Preparing for battle, he tapped the screen and lifted the phone to his ear. “Hey, Dad. How are you doing?”

“If you really wanted to know, you would’ve answered the last two times I called.”

Ross grimaced and slowed to a walk. “Sorry, Dad.”

“What, no excuses? No comeback? That’s not like you.”

Ross swallowed the sharp reply rising in his throat. He had been praying about his strained relationship with his parents. Maybe this call was an answer to those prayers. But if that was true, why did it feel more like a dreaded exam?

“So what’s going on? Why haven’t we heard from you? Your mother is worried.”

Ross paced over to the railing and breathed out slowly, letting go of his desire to be understood by his father. “You’re right, Dad. I should’ve called.”

Silence buzzed along the phone line for a few seconds, then his dad cleared his throat. “So, how’s the job hunt going? Any leads?”

Ross gazed across the bay toward the hazy blue San Juan Islands. “I had an interview yesterday.” He didn’t think he’d get the job at the bookstore, but at least it gave him something he could report to his father.

“So, what’s the position? Not one of those dead-end photo studio jobs, I hope.”

Ross gripped the rough wooden railing. “It’s a management position at a bookstore.”

“Retail?” His father huffed, his voice heavy with disdain. “Come on, Ross. You can do better than that.”

The comment gouged old wounds. “You don’t even know anything about the job.”

“It’s retail!” his father barked as though that was reason enough. “You’d be living paycheck to paycheck.”

Ross clamped his jaw, determined not to admit he hadn’t even discussed the salary with Marian Chandler.

“I paid a lot of money to put you through college. You shouldn’t be wasting your time selling books.”

“It’s not a waste of time to run a store that offers the community products they need.” No way would he tell his father it was a Christian bookstore. That would really set him off.

His father made a harsh noise in his throat. “How would this bookstore business be any better than that photography studio? You gave that a try, and it didn’t work.”

“It’s the economy, Dad. It’s been rough for everyone. You can’t blame me for that.”

“No, but it proves what I’ve been telling you for years. You need a more dependable career. Not some fly-by-night artistic thing.” His father didn’t have a creative bone in his body. He had been a CPA for thirty-five years, and he’d never understood how his son could be so different.

“Thanks, Dad.” Ross couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

It didn’t seem to faze his father. “Look, son, it’s time to come back home to Tacoma and work for me, like we planned.”

Ross’s stomach clenched. “You mean, like
you
planned.”

His father huffed.

“I’m sorry, Dad. I’m not the CPA type. I never will be.”

“You’ll do what you need to do to support yourself and your family.”

“I don’t have a family, and it’s a good thing because I couldn’t live like that.”

“But you have no problem with working retail at a bookstore?”

“It sounds interesting to me. And just because I closed the studio, that doesn’t mean I’m giving up photography. I have some jobs lined up for weekends and evenings. In a few months, maybe a year, I’m going to open my studio again.”

“Now you’re dreaming.”

Fire infused Ross’s face. “Why can’t you support me, just a little?”

“I have supported you, all the way through college. Then I helped you set up that studio. And look what happened.”

Ross closed his eyes as years of hurtful words and cutting remarks rushed over him like the rising tide.
Lord, help me! If I don’t hang up now I’m going to say something I’ll regret.
“Dad, I’ve got to go.”

“All right. But you need to call your mother tomorrow. It’s her birthday. You know how upset she’ll be if she doesn’t hear from you.”

Ross swallowed hard. “I’ll call. I promise.”

Adrie knelt and checked the books on the bottom shelf in the biography section. She turned face out a stack of an inspiring missionary’s life story. It was one of her favorites, and she always kept several copies on hand so she could recommend it to anyone who was considering serving overseas or going into some type of ministry.

Her hand stilled. Who would recommend it after she left? Ross Peterson certainly didn’t know anything about it or any of the other important books in the store.

Who would help the young woman recovering from an abusive childhood find the right book—one that would give her the hope and freedom she needed? What about the grieving man who had lost his wife and needed to know the truth about heaven? Or the frustrated mom or dad searching for practical parenting solutions? So much wisdom and comfort was available on these shelves, but most of their customers needed guidance to find the right resource.

Her shoulders sagged, and her gaze shifted to her grandmother’s closed office door. Why was her meeting with Ross taking so long? Was he trying to negotiate a higher salary or a lighter schedule so he could fit in his photography jobs?

Her grandmother was offering a good salary, and she was willing to continue working part-time to give him a flexible schedule. He had probably already accepted the job, and they were just working out the details.

The bell jingled over the front door, and their hefty, fifty-something mailman, Les Hawkins, ambled in, followed by her grandma’s friends Barb, Irene and Hannah. It must be almost three o’clock, time for the Bayside Treasures to gather in the café for their weekly Scrabble game and gab session.

“Afternoon, Adrie.” Les shuffled over as he pulled a stack of mail from his brown leather bag. She greeted him and accepted the circulars and envelopes.

“It sure is hot out there.” He shifted the shoulder strap of his bag, pulled a red bandanna from his back pocket and wiped his glistening forehead. “Can you whip me up one of those strawberry-banana smoothies?”

“I’ll get that for you.” Barb smiled at Les as she passed and headed toward the café counter.

“Thanks, Barb,” Adrie called, holding back a chuckle. Barb had a soft spot in her heart for Les, though he seemed clueless.

“How are you doing, honey?” Irene asked and gave her a quick one-arm hug. “You look so pretty, today. I love that lavender color on you. And with your hair and eyes—wow!”

Adrie kissed Irene’s cheek. “Thanks. You always say the sweetest things.”

“Well, it’s true. You look beautiful.” Irene’s smile was contagious, and Adrie couldn’t help feeling loved whenever Irene was around. She seemed to have that effect on everyone.

Irene set a large plastic container on the table containing her famous cookies. Irene made a new batch every Monday to supply the café regulars. Adrie’s mouth watered just thinking about the delicious chocolate cookies. They tasted like the best brownies you could imagine, but were chewy and crispy around the edges.

“Look what my son gave me.” Hannah held out a new Scrabble game.

Adrie grinned. “What’s wrong with the other one?”

“We just about wore out that old board.”

“Some of the tiles were missing, too,” Barb added, then hit the button on the blender. The whirring sound filled the air for a few seconds. Barb poured the smoothie into a tall plastic cup. “Here you go, Les. Hope you like it.”

“Thanks. This will hit the spot.” He slurped a big gulp. “Delicious!” Then he tipped his hat and headed for the door. “You ladies have a nice day now.”

“Bye, Les. See you tomorrow,” Adrie called.

“Where’s Marian?” Hannah asked, pulling the cellophane off the new Scrabble box. “It’s already ten past three.”

Adrie pointed toward her grandma’s office. “She’s meeting with Ross Peterson.” Just saying his name made her stomach tighten. She tried to push her negative feelings aside. The decision was made. She had to accept it and make the best of the situation.

Irene looked up. “Oh, you mean that handsome young man we met at Marian’s party?”

Hannah nodded. “Marian’s hiring him for the manager’s position.” She turned to Adrie. “I think you’ll really like working with him. He’s got a great way with people—and best of all—he’s single.” Her eyes glowed and she lifted her silver eyebrows.

Adrie quickly looked away and bit her tongue. Would these ladies ever give up?

Irene smiled, her eyes wide and encouraging. “Maybe you can start auditioning for orchestras now.”

“Yes, we don’t want all your musical talent and training to go to waste,” Barb added.

Hannah tossed the cellophane in the trash. “It’s not wasted. Adrie plays at church almost every week.”

“I know, but she’s been wanting to play professionally for years. And if Ross helps Marian manage the store, Adrie will be free to move away and play her flute like she always wanted.” Barb turned to Adrie. “Won’t that be wonderful?”

Adrie tried to answer, but unexpected tightness clogged her throat. “Yes. That’ll be great,” she finally managed to say.

What was the matter with her? Of course she wanted to audition and eventually play her flute full-time. She’d been working toward that for fourteen years—all the lessons and hours of practice, all those summers at Morrowstone Music Festival, first as a student and then being accepted for a fellowship. It looked like she’d finally have the freedom to strike out on her own, leave Fairhaven behind and follow her dream.

But was she ready to leave her grandmother and their bookstore under Ross Peterson’s care?

The sound of Scrabble tiles spilling on the table brought her back to the moment.

“So, how was your date last night?” Hannah asked Adrie as she poured the tiles into the black cloth bag.

“Oh, yes, tell us all about it.” Irene smiled expectantly and settled in the chair across from Hannah. “Noah seems like such a nice young man.”

Adrie held back a grimace. Ever since Adam broke their engagement, her grandmother and her friends seemed determined to help her find a new Mr. Right. She’d put them off for months, refusing to let them introduce her to anyone. Finally, last week, she had agreed to a blind date with Irene’s nephew’s roommate, Noah, hoping that would satisfy them and they’d stop hounding her.

No such luck.

“So what do you think? Is Noah a keeper?” Hannah looked up, a hopeful gleam in her soft brown eyes.

“Wait,” Barb called from behind the café counter. “Don’t say a word until I get there.” She hustled over, wiping her hands on a towel. “Okay. Give us details. How was the date?”

Adrie laughed. What else could she do? “Noah and I didn’t exactly hit it off.”

Irene’s ever-present smile faded. “Really? Why not?”

“Anyone who announces he was a Persian prince in his former life, and then uses eyedrops, nose drops and cough drops all within one hour…just isn’t my kind of guy.”

Hannah gasped. “You’re kidding! He did all that?”

Adrie nodded. “And he spent the rest of the evening talking about his food allergies and the cockroach invasion of his apartment.”

“Oh my.” Irene lifted her hand to cover her mouth, then dissolved into giggles. Barb and Hannah joined in, snickering and laughing until tears rolled down their cheeks.

Sure, it was funny now. But last night was an awful experience Adrie did not want to repeat. She had to put an end to their matchmaking schemes.

“All right, listen up!” She jammed her hands on her hips. “This is it. No more dates—blind or otherwise! Don’t even try to set me up with anyone. I won’t go!” The women continued to chuckle and grin at her. “I mean it! I’ve sworn off men altogether!”

Irene’s gaze traveled past Adrie’s shoulder, and her giggles faded. Barb shot Adrie a warning glance, while Hannah coughed to smother her laughter.

A sinking feeling hit Adrie’s stomach. Slowly, she turned and looked over her shoulder. Ross Peterson and Nana stood behind her. She cringed and her face flamed. How much of her anti-dating tirade had Ross heard?